The Forgotten Papa, Retraced
by hanzwriteandcries
Summary: She lived in a world paved by him. And now, she will find out about him.


Okay, I fixed some errors a reader pointed out in Pipi's full name. Thank you CheccellatteTruffles for pointing that out. I owe you one.

* * *

"Mama, what does Papa like?"

The girl violently flinched when muffled crash boomed inside the room. Her mother was staring ahead, the box holding her precious china collection by her feet, eyes vacant to the present. Ah, she did it again.

She made her mother sad again.

"I'm sorry, mama. I won't ask again."

Muffled footsteps become their background noise as she hurried to put the boxes away. Then she reenters the room to help with the box of now broken china. "We can finish the room and have dinner at McDonald's. I'll drive for you, the new job must have been tiring, right? And the whole new property agent exchange and all--"

She continues to ramble as they both collects the pieces of glasses scattered across the floor. When her mother gasp from a cut from collecting the shattered pieces, the girl gently took the hand and examined the wound.

"A superficial wound, but it could get worse. Let's get it treated, okay?" Instead of her mother's immediate reply, the girl was engulfed in a hug. It feels like a heavy weight on her heart, all because of the words uttered next.

"Your Papa… would be so proud of you…"

* * *

Her name is Putri Intan Payung Indah. She doesn't know who her father is, despite growing up hearing the heroic deeds he has accomplished.

* * *

Her mother worked with a photographing agency that makes her work long hours in different parts of the world. Putri demanded to know why she had chosen that scope of career, despite knowing the real reason behind it. The girl stopped her barrage of questions after a year of moving around. The distant look on her mother's face doesn't worth it.

Putri didn't have that many friends, you tend to when your guardian's job forces her to travel the world every eight months. But living as a pseudo-nomad has it perks. Especially for her vlog channel viewers. She had racked a few thousand viewers as she slowly climbed up the ladders of fame, and remained humble when people complimented her fresh content and fun yet educational approach.

She didn't dare to point out the lack of her mother's partner. The wound still festers, even if it's been years ago. When the same question was asked by her viewers, she would politely steer them away from the topic. All she ever knew about him is his name, and some blurry memories at the back of her mind. On her insomnia-addled nights, the young vlogger had those thoughts bubbling up unprompted.

_Who is he? Why is he so famous? Is he an artist? What is his favorite food? Does he love mama? Does he love them? Is he tall? Clean shaven, or has a beard? What's his occupation? How did he and mama met? How does mama looks when she genuinely smiles?_

Millions other questions poked and probed at her mind, but she don't have the answer for it all. Every night, she went to sleep saddened by the thought of another morning waking up in the dark.

The next day, she made a live recording on the city she's currently living in. Venice, Italy. Pointed out the unique travel methods in the city of love, and had dinner on a gondola with an alone stranger wearing a spiked cap.

"That would be the end of this vlog, guys. And Mr. Thunderstorm? Would you like to say anything for the viewers? I have to say, your choice of a nickname is unique." He chuckled, blush peppering his cheeks as he pulled the bill of his cap lower down his face. Putri chuckled at the man. He's at least ten years older than she is, but still is shy in front of cameras.

_Is Papa a shy person? Or is he a guy hiding behind a mask of bravado, just putting up an act for the crowd? Is he just like me?_

"My work in Venice is finished, and I'm glad to spend my dinner with a lovely young lady such as you, Miss Putri. I hope you and your viewers will have a splendid year." His red irises glowed in the dark when Mr. Thunderstorm glared into the camcorder, his shy demeanor melting off into a ferocious mask. "And if any of you wished to harass this lady here, I will find you."

The whole gondola went silent for a few seconds, before the man rubbed at his neck. "I-Is that… too much?"

"Eh-- No, it's fine!" Putri fought the blush creeping up her face as she waved his concerns away, and promptly cut the vlog there. The fandom would start shipping them now, oh god.

"I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, Miss Putri." He stood up from his seat, dusting his leather pants. "This would be my stop. I wasn't lying when I say I enjoyed your company."

"I am, too. You felt like… someone familiar." Then, just for the damn of it, the question shoots out of her mouth--

"Do you know my father?"

Both of them took a step back at the question. Okay-- This wasn't what she planned-- abort miSSION, ABORT MI--

"I do."

Eh?

"You do?" When her feet touched the cobblestones underneath her that was when Putri realized she had stepped off the gondola. Mr. Thunderstorm nodded his head, his red eyes conveying a thousand messages. It's a poor thing she can't understand his language.

He held out a hand, and Putri felt a small item drop into the cusp of her hands.

A nightlight. Scratched and battered, the pink bow-shaped nightlight would have been appealing back in its glory days. The paint was chipped, the labels on the switch has long since faded. There's traces of erased marker doodles on it, of love and alphabets and smileys.

Why is such a small nightlight making me cry? But the tears wouldn't stop, no matter how much Putri scrub at her eyes. Mr. Thunderstorm's leather jacket is a comfort on her shoulders, a familiar weight.

_I remembered it… but why can't I have it?_

"He loves you. Remember that, Pipi."

A gasp escaped the girl, and she looked up for the man. Only to find herself alone on the dock.

* * *

Her name is Putri Intan Payung Indah. She only know a few who called her Pipi, and somehow they all knew her father on a personal level.

But Pipi can't even remember his face.

* * *

When her mother asks her if she wants to follow her back into their old 'hometown', Pipi agrees right away.

* * *

"There's a reason why I'm bringing you back to Pulau Rintis, Zulaikha." Her eyes moved from the glimmering seawater to her mother sitting across her, all graceful and poised posture. Even approaching her forties, Mama Zila never lose her charm. Some of her viewers even had mistaken her mother as a roommate of hers, to which she would explain in exasperation that the vibrant young lady asking her preferences for dinner in Swedish is her mother.

"It's fine by me. Say, how long since we were last here? You mentioned about me being born on this island…" Notes on new ideas for her vlogs is slowly occupying her train of thoughts, when her mother's soft voice made them all crash into the water they were moving on top of.

"Fifteen years ago. I walked out with you and never came back."

Their cubicle was silent, school holiday hasn't arrived yet. Pipi desperately wished for something to fill the deafening cacophony which is her mother's silent pleas.

_She needs to know._

"Why?" Her mother looked out their window, at the vast blue of the sea and the sunlight reflecting off of it. Her face was emotionless, a mask devoid of any reaction. Yet her reply, voice shaky with barely concealed grief and regret, shook Pipi to her very core.

"I loved, and I loved, and I lost him."

Both mother and daughter was silent all the way to the drop off station.

* * *

Two ladies by the name of Yaya and Ying picked them up from the train station.

"Oh, look how you've grown up, Pipi! It's been years!" She subtly covered her flinch at the casual nickname, smiling as the lady wearing the pink hijab helped with their luggage. "How are you feeling? A longer stay this time, Mama?"

Her answer was a negative. "Maybe just for three days. I'm doing fine, Yaya. Thank you."

"I'm glad." Ying butts in, smiling at Pipi. She could feel a question lurking behind that smile, and offered a hand.

"I don't… remember if I ever-- Excuse me if this insults you, but have we met before?" The three ladies' footsteps falters, Pipi's mother included. She waited for one of them to spill out the truth.

Yaya chose to break the uncomfortable silent with an awkward laugh. Pipi could see her knuckles turning white on the handles of their luggage. "What are you talking about? We used to babysit you when you were small!"

"Yeah, but that's a long time ago." Her Chinese friend butts in, with a smile so pretentious it made Pipi's gut churns. "You probably wouldn't remember us by now."

The laughter and small talks that follows after that sounded so fake, the teen couldn't help but to excuse herself from the chitchat. An Indian man wearing a headband entered their view, and Pipi's head throbs.

"Eh? Hello, Gopal!"

"Mama Zila?" Gopal. His name is Gopal.

Papa knew him.

"I greeted you first, and you ignored me?" Yaya grumbled as the man took a step back from the fuming lady.

"Well, it's been a while since I'm back on Earth. Both of you had been here for at least two months for your breaks, right? And seeing Mama Zila here—Are you alone, Mama?" The mother shook her head, stepping aside to reveal her daughter to the man.

Pipi's heart aches at the recognition on the man's face.

"My name is Putri Intan Payung Indah--"

"—Zulaikha Odelia Ladashia Abshari." Gopal finishes for her. Pipi slowly blinked up at him.

_He felt like… Mr. Thunderstorm. Very much._

_All of them felt like this._

_What is this feeling?_

_What have I been missing all this time?_

"I know you, Pipi. Everyone on this island knows you." A soft smile bloomed on Gopal's face.

"Welcome home, Pipi."

* * *

_Is it even her home, when she can't find anything there?_

* * *

A blank screen clicks open to a young girl wearing an oversized sweater in brown and yellow highlights on its hem and hood. She had pulled her loose ponytail over one shoulder, fastening them with a pink bow. In the background, a battered nightlight bathed the room with a youthful pink glow. The sight was endearing for her viewers but the vlogger herself.

"Hello, buddies. This is ZOLA, recording live from my hometown in Pulau Rintis. Yeah, I was born on this island. I know, I know. I am surprised, too. The island with the alien spottings~" She paused, reading one of the live comments. "Top 10 Picturesque Hotspots for Insta-Worthy Posts-- Guys, just a heads up, I might not be posting a video this week."

She waited for the stream of 'Why's to calm down.

"Okay, listen. I'm telling all of you the reasons why now, okay? And good morning to you too, One(1)BotanyExpert. For my new viewers, they were one of my top fans. And they love to send me fanarts of shots in my videos. We are online mutual—that actually need to meet A.S.A.P--"

Pipi stopped mid-sentence, and ran a hand down her face. "I'm getting off-tangent. Okay, the reason for me not making a video this weekend."

"I'm here with my mom." No comment after she announced that. "And we visited Pulau Rintis out of blue because she wants to show me something. And I think it might be related…"

_Here goes _nothing--

"-- to my father. I knew next to nothing about him, and now we're here. I-- I don't think I will be able to function properly after this visit."

The stream of comment halts again. Then, a familiar ping had Pipi looking up.

**One(1)BotanyExpert**: The Onstas will always love u, ZOLA.

Pipi felt a smile crept up her lips. They always know how to cheer her up…

"Thanks, Greenie. I owe you one. This is supposed to be an update hiatus thing, but it got longer than I anticipated…" The girl scratched at her forehead, before grinning sheepishly to the camera.

Thorn huffed with a smile, before logging off and pulling the covers over him. They have a big mission tomorrow, and Earthquake targeted for it to be finished by noon.

Can't be late for their first meeting with Papa Zola's princess after half and a decade.

* * *

There's an old man, ancient if she could say it, manning the counter. When he looks up to the sounds of her footsteps, he almost fall back in shock. Pipi reached out to him, and he shrinks further.

_Maybe this is a mistake--_

"Pipi?"

_\--or not. She need to know._

_She wants to know._

_Please let her know._

"Tok Aba… isn't it?" The old man nods, the way his ancient joints creak when he moves made the young girl flinch. He stared at her face with a melancholic look in his eyes, and she found herself longing to clear those look in everyone's eyes.

"My father… You know about him too, don't you?"

He didn't answer at first, preferring to stir the cocoa in his hands than providing the girl her answer. When she was served the cup, a small sip had her mind reeling with emotions.

_Happiness. Hurt. Smiles. Tears._

_Anger. Laughter. Screams. Denial._

_Love. Hate. Pleadings. Kisses._

_Pain._

_Pain._

**_Pain._**

She looked up from her cup, to see the old man offering her a tissue. "Tok-- You're c--crying too… Wipe your tears first… I don't need it…"

"Trust me," he insists, "you need it more than I do, Pipi. That drink, is your father's favorite drink. Warm Cocoa Tarik with sweetened milk and chocolate chip. It's because--"

"I would sit in his lap and have him buy it for me every time I came by." Pipi finished Tok Aba's words. Shocked by the revelation, the old man nods.

The melancholic smile is still on his face.

Pipi returns the look with one of her own.

_They met the same man, both with sweet memories of him, but neither can tell each other of him._

"Do you have anything from my father I can remember him by?"

Tok Aba shook his head. "The toll to your mind would be too much. Memories are not Play-Dough you can jam into any crevice you wish, child. And I am not the one withholding it."

Pipi perks up from her earlier slump. "That means there's an item that I can have. Is the person on this island?"

The old man sighs, and presses a button on his speed dial. He began speaking in Hindi, before hanging up. "I have to show you something, follow me."

"W--What about your stall? Tok A-- Eh--" Pipi stumbled after the old man when he began striding forward without failing. For a man approaching a century, he sure move fast.

"What are you showing me, Tok Aba?"

"Mama actually told me to find you to answer any of my questions, but I don't think that would be appropriate-- Imagine a girl barging into your stall, firing off questions about her long-lost absentee father--"

Pipi almost smashed her nose against Tok Aba's back when he suddenly braked in the middle of their walk. "Tok?"

"Your father… would never abandon his family. He's a family man, through and through. Even with his trademark 'justice' thingy, Papa Zola always put his family first." Unlike earlier at his shop, the tears actually fall down Tok Aba's face this time.

They have arrived at a wide field, with no visible landmarks. And at their feet stood a simple headstone:

**In Loving Memory of A Father, Fighting For His Whole Life**

**May Papa Zola Will Always Prevail in the Justice He Fights For**

Pipi brushed her fingers against the headstone. Confirming that it's real. The only evidence she ever felt of her father's existence.

The day is raining. They should head inside now.

"They never find his body, sucked into a black hole after the fight was over. He never wanted to let you see him beaten in his fights."

It's getting colder now. Or is it her heart breaking?

"But the villain had chosen Earth as his final battlefield. And Papa Zola fought valiantly, tipping the favor over to their side."

It's raining for real now. Some of them even hit her face.

"It was a month before your fifth birthday. He prepared you a present. That his disciples also helped him into making it."

"Your grandchild… and his friends… are his disciples…" Tok Aba nods at Pipi's exclamation.

"All seven of Boboiboy hold one piece of the gifts. Thunderstorm has given you his piece, am I right?" Pipi nods, clutching her chest at the pain it evokes deep in her heart.

She remembers it all now.

_Her Papa… Her brave, brilliant, selfless Papa._

_Her Papa that smiled in the face of villains capable of exterminating him in a snap._

_Her Papa that holds his promise with a vice grip._

_Her Papa that kept his promise._

_"It will be alright, because Papa is here to save you!"_

**_And for the second time after 15 years, the small girl fell to her knees and wept for the loss of her beloved papa._**


End file.
